Nightmares
by Fluta
Summary: Erika's older sister was reaped and killed in last year's Hunger Games. This year's reaping day has rolled around, and she finds herself in the same position as her sister, reaped. Can Erika defy all odds and win the 52nd Hunger Games?
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares

Chapter One-Nightmares

I pulled the ribbon on my dress tightly behind my back. I let it fall, and my hands flitted back to my sides. I glanced at myself in my half-shattered mirror, lifting my chin slightly upward.

There I stood, my five nine frame, in my dress. It was grey with a dingy green leaf print, very well worn. It went to my knees, and the ribbon hung down to my mid-back. This was my reaping dress; after all, today the reaping would take place for the 52nd Hunger Games. I slipped on my white flats and put my sister's twine necklace around my neck.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror before I began hearing sobbing from downstairs. I slowly creeped down the stairs as my dress bouncing behind me. I walked down the hallway and peaked my head through an archway where my mother stood huddled over.

"Mom," I said, my voice echoing through our almost silent living room.

She turned to look at me, revealing a picture of my late sister, Brinn, cradled in her arms. My memory was sent back to the reaping of last year's 51st Hunger Games.

"Happy Hunger Games!" our district's escort, Mia Powers spoke to the crowd, in the quite ridiculous Capitol accent. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

She looked out into the crowd of solemn faces and as usual, was expecting some kind of enthusiasm, which she never got. Everyone stood awkwardly for a few seconds until she began to open her mouth again.

"Now for the video on the Dark Days!" she exclaimed, pressing down on a button on a remote.

A video appeared on the screen and told of how the Hunger Games came to be and the Dark Days. We had to view the video every year, and every year it was the same. Once it came to an end, and our entire district still quiet, as usual.

"I just love that video!" Mia exclaimed, cutting through the dead silence. "Now for the selecting of the tributes. Ladies first."

Mia plunged her hand into the glass bowl, and her hand seemed to swim through it for several hours when really it was barely two seconds. Her hand emerged with a slip of paper folded and taped in half. She broke the seal and opened the paper up.

"Brinn Wilmington," she spoke clearly in the microphone.

My heart just about stopped. What were the odds that in my sister's last year available to be reaped that she was? She had almost been in the clear, yet, sadly, not quite there.

My sister's brilliant body stepped out of the eighteen year old girls holding area and onto the soft dirt path to the stage. She held her head up head up high, and her long body seemed to exude confidence. However, I knew that it wasn't real. She turned her head towards me, and I felt her emotions somewhat take over my entire body.

I had never seen Brinn look scared ever; she was always so strong for my mother and me, always. Yet now, she wasn't scared; she was utterly terrified. Fear and shock danced in her blue eyes as she walked to the stage with her blonde hair blowing behind her.

I glanced around, and nobody had seemed to notice her fear except for me. That was Brinn for you, always being strong, even if she was weak on the inside.

"That a girl come on up," Mia said, lending a hand to my sister.

My sister was brought to center stage. Her hand was raised above her head as if she had won some great victory or honor.

"Erika? Why are you up so early?" my mom asked me, setting the picture back down on a table.

"Do you think I could sleep? The reaping's today…" my voice trailed off.

"You don't think I know that," my mother began, softly. "I've been worrying about this day since last year's Game. You just can't go Erika; you can't. I won't allow it! I just won't."

I hugged my mom, and a bell rang through the town, signaling the reaping's beginning. My mom picked up my little sister, and we all headed to the Justice Building for this year's reaping.

I had my finger pricked and joined the girls of my age, fifteen. The sky got dark, and Mia appeared from the ground. Out of nowhere, everyone else was gone. Nobody was left except for me.

"Erika Wilmington will be going into this year's Hunger Games," she said, smiling deviously, rubbing her thin little hands together.

"You didn't even pick from the bowl," I stammered out, waiting for her reaction.

"Well, we want you for the Hunger Games. It's either killed or be killed Erika. Come on the Games are right through there."

Before I knew it, I was falling through darkness. I then landed on some grass standing with a knife in my hand. Twenty-two teenagers were lying haphazardly in the grass with knives in their backs. I then realized I had killed them all; I felt my heart begin to hurt. Before I could react anymore, two huge arms grabbed my and started to choke me.

"Stop…. Can't….. Breathe…" I began to sputter.

Then, I awoke in my bed, hyperventilating and holding my chest.

I heard a scuffling of someone's feet, and my door was thrust open.

"Erika, what's wrong?" my mother asked, running into my bedroom.

"Nightmare," I said, breathlessly flopping back onto my bed.


	2. Chapter 2: A Real Reaping

Chapter Two- A Real Reaping

"Young lady, you cannot go back to sleep. Today is the reaping. You must get ready!" my mom said, pulling my sheet off of me.

I groaned. Who likes a reaping, especially when your name is in there too many times to count?

"Erika! You need to get out of that bed and into your dress. We want to look good for this reaping, don't we? So get up!" she yelled, leaving and closing my door behind her.

I rolled out of the bed and landed on my feet quite lightly. For someone who just lost her daughter in the last Hunger Games, you'd think my mom wouldn't be so 'pumped' for me to prepare for the reaping.

I opened my drawer and found my reaping dress, nicely folded. I shook it out and shivered; it was the same one I had worn it that horrible nightmare. I saw my shoes sitting in the drawer along with my sister's twine necklace. I held it tightly in my hand; I felt my breath fly back into my mouth.

As I said, the necklace had been my sister's. She wore it all the time until she was killed. She even wore it in the games. The gamemakers were 'kind' enough to send it back to us after those games; what was it? Some type of consolation present for us?

"We are going to be late Erika!" my mother screamed up the stairs.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my short, light brown hair quickly. I ran downstairs and was outside with my mom and little sister within a few moments. I held my sister's hand and looked down into her blue eyes.

Avery was so young at just nine years old. I could only pray that by the time she turned twelve that the Hunger Games would exist no longer, but will that happen? Probably not.

"Erika," my mom said looking up at me.

"Yeah, mom?" I asked, looking over to her.

"Good luck. You'll need it," she said, quietly.

"I don't; I'm not going to be reaped," I said, giving her a reassuring smile.

My mom returned the smile and gave me a hug. I knelt down and hugged Avery before running to check into the reaping.

"Finger please," a peacekeeper said, ready to prick my finger.

I gave him my hand and then, found myself walking over to the girls that were my age, fifteen. I glanced around looking at everyone's nervous faces; they were all as scared as I was. This was definitely the worst day of the year.

A sudden tap on a microphone woke everyone up from their nervousness and all eyes were on the stage.

"Greetings! And welcome to the reaping for the 52nd Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor," Mia announced, her voice echoing through our silent district.

I had always though Mia looked absolutely farfetched, but this year certainly took the cake. She had a pale blue wig with some weird hat-thing sitting atop her afro-like hair. Her skin was tinted a light blue, which I fond unattractive and slightly creepy. Her bright blue dress fell to her knees, and it was extremely geometric and structured. It seemed to have 3-D triangles jutting out from every space on the skirt. The top was tight fitting and just had to be eye-candy for the average male.

She clapped her hands together. "Well then! Shall we watch the video?"

Once more, her strange pep towards the Hunger Games was met with nothing but silence from our quiet district. We don't get pumped for the Games here in District Nine; if you're picked, it's an automatic death sentence.

You see, nobody has ever won the games from our district. The tributes just aren't as popular with the sponsors as some are from the wealthier districts. What also made this so deadly for us that, as I stated before, nobody had ever won from our district; therefore, we had no mentor going into the Games, at least there was Mia.

The video came to an end, and Mia clapped her thin, little hands together, gathering everyone's attention.

"On that note, I suppose we should name the tributes! May the odds be ever in your favor, ladies and gents!" she exclaimed from the stage.

She danced her way over to one of the clear bowls and announced that, as usual, the girl tribute will be picked first. She plunged her tiny hand into it, and I heard a collective intake of breath as everyone waited, nervously, to hear who the unlucky girl was to be. After a few moments, her hand was out of the bowl, holding a small, folded piece of paper above her head. She flitted back over to the microphone and ripped open the seal, responsible for keeping the paper closed and confidential. She opened it up and leaned into the microphone.

"Erika Wilmington," she spoke loud and clearly, echoing throughout every corner in this district.

I felt my body go numb and heard a shrill scream, undoubtedly coming from my mother, who probably felt as she had her heart ripped from her chest.


End file.
